Yesterday
Chris had an appointment with a financial advisor. He’s the guy who is handling the stocks that
she received as her inheritance when her Mom died. Chris got a nasty letter last week telling
her that if she didn’t make contact with the financial advisor company, then
the account would be turned over to the state as inactive. Scary stuff, huh? So she called and made an appointment to
touch base with him. He suggested they
meet at Sugar Bean, a coffee shop in a local planned community. I went along for moral support,
primarily. And to help her remember what
questions she thought up when we were on our walk.
The
advisor bought me a cup of coffee and we went to the coffee shop’s outdoor
seating where we hoped it would be a little quieter. There wasn’t any talking to compete with, but
there was construction going on that made it necessary to raise our voices
every now and then. I’m such a quiet guy
by nature that I kind of sat back in my chair and watched the proceedings, only
occasionally adding or requesting some words of clarification. All’s right with the world.
Until
… I noticed a date that the guy had written down on a piece of paper that
didn’t look like the date Chris had given him for something. So I shifted in my chair just a little bit
forward to double-check what I was seeing before saying anything. And then it happened. Perfect place for a cliff-hanger here, isn’t
it? I’ll be kind …
The
chair underneath me began to sway, and it wasn’t a rocker. And in slow motion one side completely gave
way. And on the way down, the other side
gave way. And just before I hit the
ground the armrest collapsed. And as I
fell backward when the chair back collapsed, the other armrest crumbled with
me. Every single place there was a
connection, a bolt or a screw of any kind, that place severed and
flattened. By the time my little
adventure was complete, you could have picked up the pieces and repackaged
them. It was like I had been sitting in
a joke chair and someone pulled the string.
The advisor guy was standing over me.
Construction workers began picking up the pieces of the dead chair. Someone said they would go get the manager,
and soon she was in the mix, asking for my contact information and giving me
the owner’s name and contact info and assuring me that the manager would give
me a call. With some help I made my way
to my feet. I was at first most worried
about my back, but it was my knee that barked at me as I rose. It had twisted beneath me under the
chair. I guess that’s why it took so
long to completely flatten out. The
manager kept asking if I was all right and if I needed anything. Several people offered to get me a chair, but
I opted to spend the rest of our time together sitting on a concrete
barricade. The construction workers were
impressed, and more than a little amused by my choice. We were able to finish our meeting without
any more slapstick interruptions.
I
wondered how the knee would feel this morning. It is certainly sore, but I don’t
think I am any worse for wear. I suppose
if the owner calls or if it starts really bothering me, I could go get it
checked out. I do have a full day today,
though. We’ll see …
Psalms
54:4 says, “Surely God is my help; the Lord
is the one who sustains me.”
Father,
thank you for the concern expressed by the advisor and manager and especially
the construction workers. Give them all
a peaceful day today. Amen.
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